


Two Ghosts

by TheClergy



Category: Gentleman Bastard Sequence - Scott Lynch
Genre: F/F, F/M, I was sad after reading the second book, Just mentions of both relationships, basically I was sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-05
Updated: 2020-11-05
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:34:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27398059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheClergy/pseuds/TheClergy
Summary: Set between Red Seas Under Red Skies and The Republic of Thieves.Jean is dealing with Ezri’s death and Locke’s imminent death poorly. There is some unspoken business between them, but no time or appropriate manner to address it.Also we RESPECT Ezri’s memory in this house, so I did not tread on the sanctity of that relationship.Basically I went full angsty and turned out a couple words of trash y’all’re welcome
Relationships: Ezri Delmastro/Jean Tannen, Locke Lamora & Jean Tannen, Locke Lamora/Jean Tannen
Kudos: 3





	Two Ghosts

It was a bleak room in Lashain, full of the smell of sickness that was taking away the last person that Jean loved. Possibly the first person that he had truly loved, too, depending how he defined  
love. Jean felt lost. He felt alone, and he felt the muted terror of certainty that he would soon be so lonely that this dark room would be a bright memory.  
He missed Ezri. Gods, he did. He could still smell her sometimes, when he closed his eyes and forgot where he was. It wasn’t so long ago that he had been preoccupied by Locke and bitter that he would never look at Jean twice because of his obsession with Sabetha. Now, those memories felt distorted and impossible. Those were the experiences of a different man. That was a Jean who had never met and loved Ezri. She had come along and their relationship had been like a sun. It had blinded him, consuming him and making itself all he could see. His softer love for Locke had still been there, but it had been drowned out.  
Now that beautiful light had burnt out, and left twisted after images in a dark room. He loved a ghost and a dying man, and his love for each of them had become melded into one vast knot of writhing grief. He had wanted to seek comfort from Locke even knowing that his last friend and last living love would not welcome the advance. Even with Ezri’s ghost in his mind, holding his heart in those once-beautiful calloused hands, he loved Locke Lamora. It was all part of the fucked up ball of confusion and pain that was his heart.  
He loved Locke because he always had, but the sensation of it reminded him so strongly of Ezri that it twisted inside him and made it impossible to understand or face. If Locke had just taken the fucking antidote then this wouldn’t be an issue. In a world where they both had, Jean would have forever to grieve, sort through his feelings, and find a way to heal. Instead he had a dark sickroom and a dying friend. Soon, he wouldn’t even have that.  
Locke stirred. “Jean?” he asked, turned in his bed to look up at Jean. He frowned. “Jean, you’re crying.”  
“I bloody well noticed, Locke. I can’t even get a moment of peace now that you’re weak and dying.” Jean’s smile was fragile, but he pasted it on anyway. Locke sat up, with a great deal of work, and inspected him.  
“I’ll leave you in peace soon, don’t worry,” he said, flashing an equally fragile smile for just a second. Locke put his hand on Jean’s knee. He could feel it shaking, which just served to make his stomach twist. “She should be here. I’m so sorry.”  
“It’s all wrong. She should be here, Locke, and I should be happy and watching the two people I love most in the world get to know each other while eating a dinner that I cooked and watching a fucking sunset. Gods, Locke, you’re shaking. Lay back down.”  
“Jean.” Locke’s voice was quiet. “I’m so sorry.”  
“You would’ve grown to like her, Locke,” Jean started, but Locke cut him off.  
“I already did. I started to like her the second I got over my own damned jealous ego and gave her a chance.”  
“Lay down, Locke,” said Jean again, putting a steadying hand on his quivering shoulder, but Locke just smiled at him with a strange look of tender sadness and flung himself forward. When Locke settling against Jean, with his arms around the big man’s neck in an attempt at a hug, Jean choked on a sob and caught him, trying to steady his shaking body to no avail. Locke squeezed him.  
“Jean, you great fool, you are a blessing to the world and you will find a new life after me. You hear me? You’re good at moving on. You’ll find a new weak little shit to look after. Maybe you’ll even find a collection of them. That’s why I made you take the antidote. I would probably drink myself to death a month after you went and shame us both with that sad, uninspired fucking death offering.”  
“Don’t insult me. I’m not good at moving on. I’m good at refocusing. You little asshole, I’m good at focusing on you.” Jean buried his damp face in Locke’s shoulder, who patted him on the back.  
“Now Jean, you don’t really need me. You will be fine when I’m gone.” Jean lifted his head to stare angrily into Locke’s eyes.  
“Don’t fucking say that. It isn’t true. You don’t get to die smugly lying to yourself,” he hissed and shook his head in mingled anger and disbelief. Locke smiled wearily up at him.  
“I don’t think that this is a good time to say this, but I also doubt that I will live to see a good time, so fuck it. I love you, Jean. I mean no disrespect to Ezri and I don’t expect you to return the sentiment, but I thought you should know.” Jean stared at him, open-mouthed, in disbelief.  
“You... what? How long?”  
“Since we were boys. I don’t know.” Locke shrugged. “I mooned after Sabetha, but I always took you for granted and I think that in the end all you had to do to win my heart was keep me safe and happy selflessly for years, even when I was making both tasks difficult and making an ass of myself to boot. Easy task, that. You barely even earned it, I would say.” He grinned impishly, and Jean sprinted through a half dozen emotions before settling back into his default state of misery.  
“No, it’s not a good time to tell me.”  
“I’m sorry. I should have done you the mercy of not burdening you with it.”  
“No, Locke. It’s a terrible time but I’m glad you did.” Jean sighed, and then kissed the center of Locke’s forehead. He couldn’t kiss him on the lips, not with Ezri’s ghost so fresh. “I have felt the same. Ezri eclipsed it, distracted me and overshadowed you, but before her...” he trailed off, tired. Locke grinned.  
“So my jealousy was, however shitty, entirely justified.”  
“You’re a nasty little turd,” Jean muttered without conviction, dumping Locke unceremoniously back onto the sick bed. “Now lay down, like I keep telling you.” Locke flopped over to stare at him again.  
“Now Jean, that was genuinely uncharitable.”


End file.
